


Lockbox - Beg

by SomberCitizen



Series: Boxes [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 17:38:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13058883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomberCitizen/pseuds/SomberCitizen





	Lockbox - Beg

I called your name again. I don’t think he noticed, I don’t think he would care much if he did either. He doesn’t come to me for a connection, there is none, he comes to me for a distraction, for a release that he won’t find at the bottom of a bottle. His hands were shaking and his hair was wet with sweat again. He felt like he was working through a fever. I don’t go to him for much more either. But he is nothing like you. I shouldn’t hold it against him, but I do. He is  _ nothing _ like you. I can feel his warm body behind me, I can hear his breath on the fabric of the pillow, but it doesn’t keep the cold out like you did. Nothing does. 

 

Nothing feels the same without you, and I can’t smell pine without aching anymore. Years have gone by and you told me you’d want me to move on, but I can’t. I keep trying to find someone else, to stop thinking about you every day and I can’t. Everything brings back your ghost and some days it hurts to keep a straight face and keep going. On the worst days I wish I joined you, but I don’t think your gardens would’ve taken me as well. Maybe we were never really meant to be, maybe we were stupid to think we could ever make it out together. You told me once you believed that if everything is made from scattered energy from things long gone, parts of us must’ve come from the same dying star. Maybe that star died for a reason, it’s dust was never meant to stay together.

 

I’m tired. I’m always tired now. Tired of wishing, tired of walking on the edge of the void, always skirting around it digging my fingers bloody in the dirt, just to keep myself from falling in and getting swallowed. I’m tired of begging and pleading and praying. I’m tired of missing your hand in mine and tired of keeping your name sacred. I can’t say it without my eyes spilling over and my pillow is damp with tears now. I don’t want to think of you in past tense, I don’t want you dead or divine, I just want you living, I don’t care if by my side, I just want you alive. I don’t care if I’ll feel you again, I just want to know you’re breathing and you see the same moon I do. 

 

You told me you’d want me to move on, but how could I? You came into my life so easily and made a home in my chest and made me feel warmer than I ever had. I can’t forget you, and I can’t move on. I keep looking for you in everyone, and you were like many, but no one is like you. No one sees me like you did, you treated my heart like it was hallowed grounds. I don’t think I can be seen anymore, I don’t think anyone can know me like you did. He doesn’t know me. I don’t think he wants to, he sees me as someone in control, he wants to be so to and he thinks I can help. He looks at me, but he doesn’t see anything. None of them do. None of them see me barely holding on and how badly I want to let go, to follow your voice and be drowned in my memories of you. How could they see, when I can’t be seen anymore?

 

I’m stuck and I’m wayward and unchanging at the same time. Every step I take forward, I take another one back and I’m always on the edge of the void and I hear your voice calling me from the depths. I want to join you, I want to let you pull me under, but I can’t. I keep going, never forward, always in circles and there’s you in the middle with my name on your lips and a promise to chase away the cold. But I have made a home in the cold now, in the middle of the frozen wasteland you left in your wake, and everyone who comes here becomes blinded by the snow. They can’t see anything here. They can’t see me here shaking and blue, talking to ghosts, with my fingers bloody from grasping at the edge of the void, looking for purchase. 

  
  


He is moving behind me. Morning must’ve come and I have barely blinked. Even gone, you still keep me awake all night. He’ll put on his clothes and leave without a word, and I’ll go get ready for the day. I’ll do my job, and I’ll talk to people and I’ll smile every now and then, even though it hurts. You’ll still be on my mind, you always are, I can always hear your voice calling me from the depths. And I promise you, I want to follow so badly, because I know you’ll hold me and I’ll get to see your eyes and I’ll be warm again. But I’d trade it all, your touch and your warmth and the way your eyes shine in the moonlight, just to speak of you in present tense again. I want you with me, I’ll always do, but I’d give it up, I’d stay in the cold, just to know your heart is beating somewhere. Please, I beg you, come back. You don’t have to come back to me. I just want to think of you as living. 


End file.
